The End of a Beginning
by twelfth.night.1602
Summary: After Breaking Dawn. After a divorce, Olivia moves to La Push to start a new chapter in her life. After an imprint and a diagnosis, what will she be willing to do to stay alive? Rated T for occasional language.
1. Chapter 1

I was in a meadow, and it was so beautiful. That was when I had the first realization that this was a dream. Everything was too perfect. The colours of the wild flowers were pastels, all soft yellows, purples and pinks, like a patchwork quilt. The grass was wet with dew and perfectly unkempt, as if it was fashioned to be that way, the willowy trees surrounding it swaying in a light breeze that I didn't yet feel.

There wasn't anything unusual about the scene at all, except for the eerie perfection of it.

A cool breeze ruffled my hair and sent a shiver down my spine. I looked down at the grass between my toes… my bare feet. My eyes slowly took in the outfit I was wearing- an unfamiliar yellow cotton sundress with a white lace trim. The material felt like a warm waterfall against my skin and my legs were perfectly smooth, as if I had shaved them not an hour ago. I felt at peace with the world, as if nothing could go wrong.

I looked across the meadow to find an old fashioned wooden bench, which I had not seen before. I walked over to it and found that suddenly, there was a boy sitting in it. A man. I sat down beside him; if it was a dream, nothing could harm me and I wasn't scared- it felt like the right thing to do. He looked over at me, and my eyes drank in his features as if they were dying of thirst.

His perfectly smooth skin wasn't dark enough to make him black, or Indian, but some kind of native. His black hair was long, in black waves down his back. He was very muscular and lean, and looked to be in his twenties, but I felt as though he was a teenager, even inside his older body. Our eyes met and I almost jumped back out of my seat, they surprised me so much.

They were half crazed, with dark circles under them, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. They were reddish and puffy almost like he'd been crying for a long time, and his breaths were ragged. This man was in pain beyond anything I had experienced, and it was worse. He looked defeated. He was waiting for someone to pull the trigger of the gun pressed to his temple. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no words came out. He just stared at me.

I swallowed, gulped almost, this guy looked suicidal. I ran my hands through my hair, something I did when I was nervous, when I felt something that was definitely wrong: I didn't feel anything.

I was bald, and I kept pressing my cold hands to my scalp, maybe I was crazy, too, but I kept feeling the smooth skin on top of my head, and nothing else. I looked around the meadow for a mirror, or something reflective, to see what I couldn't with only my eyes.

I saw a pond at the edge of the far side, and I ran to it. I ran like I was being chased and knelt down at its edge looking into the water. I was bald, and I couldn't believe what my brain perceived. I was bald, but it went deeper than that- I looked like the man on the bench.

My eyes, too, had dark circles under them and I looked too skinny, as if I hadn't been eating and my cheekbones jutted out in a way they never had before. I started to hyperventilate and cry. I didn't know what was happening, other than the fact that I was sick, maybe dying.

I turned around, only to crash into the man with the crazy eyes. He pulled my into a tight embrace and held me while I cried. After a while, I felt hot tears on my shoulder. There was an intense heat emitting from his skin, and overall, being in his arms felt right.

I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. My eyes snapped open.

****

With no warning, I was taken from the dream, back to reality. I lay in bed, my blankets twisted around my ankles, breathing deeply trying to shake off the dream. There was still a dull, gnawing pain in my abdomen, and I watched my clock until it went away. The dream had scared me; there was a weird sense of a premonition about it. My alarm clock said 5:27, there was no point in going back to sleep now, so I got up to take a long shower. I grabbed my towel, puffy and white, from the cupboard in the hall, tip toeing so not to wake up my mom.

I grabbed my shampoo-conditioner and razor and I started the water and turned it to warm. While lathering my hair, I thought about the dream, but had already forgotten the details. After I finished, I shut off the water and slowly made my way back to my room. I put on the only thing left- a red tee shirt, my black jeans and a denim vest. Everything else was packed. I would be leaving Pickering tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I would be leaving good old Dunbarton High School, where I had spent grade 9 and 10, and going to some reservation in Washington. When I made this announcement a week ago, everybody thought I was kidding: it was such an 'Olivia' thing to do. They laughed again when I told them where I was going. I shouldn't be able to survive at a school in the United States with no sun, no hockey and no music. But I need to spend time with my mom, no matter where it took me. She was leaving Canada because my ass of a dad, who basically fucked his secretary ten minutes before he was supposed to meet my mom for lunch. She caught on when there were seven purple hickeys on his neck and collarbone.

He didn't even look in the mirror before he left for lunch. Poor, clueless bastard. That was a few months ago. We had kicked him out for a while and he was staying with my Uncle, who I had never liked anyway, until we left.

Everything was settled. The house was packed, and all that was left of what we were taking were our beds, and a few of our belongings which we were taking on the plane with us.

I looked in the mirror, feeling relieved that my long curly black hair was still there. I sighed and started to brush it out, fighting with the tangles that were invading my hair. I lined my bright green eyes with a dark purple kohl eye liner, smudging it into my thick black eye lashes, and put mascara on.

Today wouldn't be a work day at school, but a goodbye day. It was November, so it would be weird going to a new school half way through the year, but I would survive. I walked slowly down the stairs, looking at the plain, pale blue walls that used to be filled of my school pictures and family portraits. The house was eerily empty, and had no character.

I went into the silent kitchen, and was surprised at the time: 7:37. I would leave soon; school started at 8:30 and I had to get there early to say goodbye. Looking into the refrigerator, it happened: the pain in my gut. It caught me off guard and I almost fell down, but I wound up clutching the fridge door, panting. It went as quickly as it came and it wasn't like this was the first time: it usually got better as the day went on, if it came at all, so I stood up. It's probably just nerves, so I'll ignore it. I took an apple for later and sat on the clean carpeted floor and lay down.

I just thought about the guy in the dream: his eyes, his face, his hair… the way his body hugged me… the heat…

Bzzzz…Bzz-Bzzzz

My phone vibrated and my eyes shot open. It was a text from Glenn: _I can't believe that ur leaving me!! Do u want 2 do lunch and skip the rest of the day with me? 3_

I denied, making the excuse that I had to clean out my locker, even though that had been done yesterday. Glenn had been my boyfriend for a while and he was apparently crazy for me, according to my friends. They don't like him, but they put up with him for me. I had never really wanted a boyfriend, but when he asked me out, I was too shocked to say no. I think he knows that I'm going to end things today, and he'll probably try something to save "us" but it isn't working out… I have been working on my speech about that for a while.

I walked out to the garage to grab my bike. Motorcycle, really. I'm the only person I know who rides, and the only person who is allowed to do something so dangerous and stupid. I rode away, to say goodbye to all I had left of my life right now. By the time I got to school, I had forgotten all about the dream, and the weird pain that I was considering seeing a doctor about. What I forgot would very soon turn out to be a colossal problem.

**Ok, so here's the first chapter, please R&R!! **

**I love criticism, so bring it on!! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok so, here's the new chapter. Please R&R! **

The layout of Dunbarton High School is so confusing that it took a week for me to fully understand it. The main floor is known as the 400s level, with the 300s below it on the west side, the 200s below it to the south and the 100s below it to the north. In the middle of the 100s is the east gym, and the cafeteria east of it. The west gym is in the 300s, and above it is the 500s. There is another building to the far south of the school, holding the 700s for music and drama and the 800s for art. There are no 600s.

Now, I'd have to leave my safety zone and go into unknown territory.

I arrived at school a few minutes early to talk to the people in the guidance department about my new school schedule in Forks. It turns out that they used the same semester system: four subjects for the first part of the year and four subjects for the second. I would have to switch out a music class for a gym, but that was ok; I am a good athlete.

The first bell went, which meant that I had 6 minutes to get to south campus and my jazz class. Michael Jackson was blaring through the ancient sound system in the halls, so I walked to the fast-paced beat. It was chilly outside and I ducked my head into the rainbow coloured scarf to protect myself from the wind. I was a few minutes late for class and I walked through the beginning of the national anthem.

Jazz class was a breeze- I only had to listen to people play solo tests and hug a bunch of people. It was really sad though- I'd be missing the jazz trip to Cuba in spring. Every year, the music department had a huge trip, and this year was Cuba. I had been looking forward to it since the beginning of this year after I paraded through Time Square in grade nine and met Mickey Mouse last year.

I would also miss my music teachers. There were three teachers and all of them were willing to give you all of their free time to help you whenever you needed it. It would be unlikely for me to find one teacher like that, let alone three, in Washington.

My next class, Math, was a breeze; I didn't know anyone in that class, so no sad goodbyes. At lunch, I sat at the usual table, with my usual friends, spending the time promising to call, e-mail and visit whenever I could. Just before the bell was going to ring, they did something unexpected. Ashley, my best friend for over a decade, looked at Jamie, my best guy-friend and he pulled out a gift bag from under the table, and pushed it across to me. The entire table fell silent, and they all were looking at me, solemn expressions on their faces and some had tears in their eyes.

"Open it," cirped Jamie. I met him in grade nine, and I was in love with him for the entire year. I gave up on that dream when I found out that he was gay, but we were the best of friends now.

I opened the envelope, and all the card was, was a blank piece of thick cream coloured paper with dozens of signatures and messages. "We went through your facebook friends," Ashley explained. "Everyone is really going to miss you… they all chipped in to get you this."

I took out the multiple pieces of tissue paper and removed a box. It was a Canon EOS 40D… the very camera I had asked for at every major holiday, but was denied because of the sheer cost of it.

My eyes filled with tears. It was surprising- I didn't cry during the divorce, or at my great aunt's funeral… I never cry. And yet, here I was, making sounds like a six month old kitten, and being surrounded in a group hug. I was really going to miss them, I had known some of them ever since I could remember.

It took a while for us to get out of the cafeteria and to our separate classes, and lucky me, I had Food and Nutrition next- my class with Glenn. It was the class I had been dreading. After I told Glenn I was moving, he had been pushing me sexually. He always had a plot to get me alone and even tried to do it with me in his car at lunch. I wasn't going for it.

He knows it's coming, and that's why he's trying to pull moves on me now. It doesn't matter if I deny him because we'll probably never see me again. I walked into the class as the bell went and sat at my usual seat, trying not to meet Glenn's constant stare. Our teacher gave us the assignment: lasagna, and told us to get cracking.

I was starting to prepare our kitchenette when he broke the ice. "What's up? You look really sad."

"Oh, it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that I'm leaving everything I know and love tomorrow," I said with harsh sarcasm. He looked down, while boiling the water for the noodles. "Sorry, it's not your fault." I said.

"It's cool… I know how to cheer you up." He started advancing on me.

This was it. I knew he would try something and now under our teacher's hawk-like stare, he was. I pushed him away, but he wasn't having any of that. "What the hell! Glenn, stop." I said. My voice was weak and shaking.

"You're right… we'll have plenty of time for that after school today?" He said it as a question and raised his eyebrows.

Deep breath in. "I can't," My voice was stronger this time, but I reduced the volume. People were starting to eavesdrop. "You know I'm not ready for that, and…" I paused, biting my lip, "I want to officially break up before I leave. I mean, it's not like we're ever going to see each other again and we both knew it was coming and…" I shut up, I was babbling.

He looked at me, his eyes squinting, and his face angry. "Ok. Fine. Be that way. Just know- every girl in the school wishes that she could fuck me. Your loss." He stalked away to his friend's kitchen, probably to start rumors.

Adding the noodles to the boiling water, I thought about how that went down. He knew it was coming, but he didn't seem sad in the least. It made me wonder if he ever really liked me.

The rest of the period went by quickly. I tried to ignore the flirtatious snickers coming from Glenn and two blonde girls. I could tell that they were talking about me, but I didn't care. One of the only good things about leaving a place forever.

By the end of the day, I was so exhausted, because I was up at 5am. I lay down for a nap, and the next thing I knew I was being shaken awake by my mom. It was morning, the moving truck was here, and we were leaving forever.

**I had this chapter ready with the first one, in case anybody was wondering why it's done so quickly. **

**Please review with comments and any ideas! (: **


	3. Chapter 3

The first week in Washington was horrid. The turbulence on the small airplane made me sick and as we began our descent in Seattle, all I could see was grey clouds. It all was very cliché- the weather matching my mood. When we finally got to our house, I was not impressed. Back home, our house was 2-story, 4 bedrooms, 3 ½ bath. This is a bungalow. It is a beautiful house, just small. There is a big backyard leading into a forest, which is nice, and the small kitchen has yellow everything. The entire house has a lot of bright colours, which I love because back home, everything was white, off white or pastel. It was like the bright colours were trying to make up for the lack of sun. Now that we have everything settled in, I quite like it here except for the lack of sun, and I am going to bitch about that until I get my share of vitamin D.

At first, I slept a lot on the sofa in the small sitting room off the kitchen, while my room was being set up by overweight movers, blaming all the sleep on jetlag. It was actually depression. It's not serious, but I always got like this when it rained at home. I should move to Spain, I read that it's hardly ever overcast there. I took the week off school to adjust to life here. It's not that hard, considering how small the town is. There's the small downtown area, and the beach, basically. I took a riding tour of La Push and the town adjacent, Forks, on my bike the day before, so I wouldn't get lost on my way to school. It would be even more embarrassing than starting school in November if I was late because I got lost. That would be pathetic.

My new room has dark red walls, with my cream coloured bed from home and cream shelves, a cream desk… my room is basically red, and cream with purple accents, a.k.a. lots of pillows and a beanbag chair, courtesy of a trip to IKEA. Life without dad has proved to be… difficult. Mom cries a lot, and I haven't heard from him since the divorce.

I turned on my lap top to find a full inbox. Almost 200 unread e-mails. I really hope this isn't going to be a part of my new life, reading e-mail after e-mail every night. I'll have to talk to people about this.

I lay down in bed the night before my first day wondering how school will be the next day. Will my clothes be right? I don't usually worry about my appearance, but one has to make a good impression. Will I stand out? I saw a lot of tanned people… and a lot of tanned shirtless men. Will I catch up with the curriculum? I have always been a good student, but in the United States, who knows?

As I drifted off to sleep, I was trying to convince myself not to worry too much and to take deep breaths. I snuggled deeper into my warm, soft bed and thought about how I hadn't dreamed in a long time… that I could remember. Even a nightmare would be okay… nights feel incomplete without something to remember… tonight would be different, maybe. I eventually stopped thinking and drifted off into sleep.

*****

I woke up on time, and used a flat iron on my usually wild, curly hair and put on a bit of make-up. Breakfast wasn't a priority- I was hardly ever hungry in the morning, anyways. I wore the same outfit that I wore on my last day back home- it's my favorite.

Nervously, I packed my school bag with 4 spiral bound books of lined paper, 2 binders, a pencil case and my wallet and make-up bag… just in case. Sighing, I left a note for my mom, telling her that I left, and wished her luck on the job hunt. She, lately, has taken to sleeping in a lot. She used to be up, packing my lunch, baking or doing paper work for her job as an accountant. I hope my life here will be better than mom's is turning out to be.

Riding to school in the rain isn't very fun, but my thick brown leather jacket kept me relatively warm and kind of dry, and my helmet kept my hair dry. I parked my bike, and tried to ignore the stares from other students. I guess here, everyone knows everyone. And the new girl from Canada will stick out like a sore thumb.

The woman at the main office was very nice. She showed me where all my classes were (Gym, Math, English and Biology), gave me a locker assignment and sent me on my way. I kept my head held high and tried to walk confidently to my locker. I found it, and put my lock on. After clearing out a bit of garbage someone had stashed there, I put my afternoon binder in and headed to my first class. Thank goodness, I got the gym on time and started talking to the teacher. I threw a tee shirt and some shorts in my bag, along with my running shoes in my bag last minute. It was a good thing because she expected me to participate. I walked into the change room and was immediately stared down by everyone.

"Uh, hi. I'm Jessica," Said one in the corner. "You're Olivia, right? You just moved here from Canada. Mrs. Campbell told us last week. Anyways, we're doing badminton this week." She said all this with a little smile.

I looked Jessica up and down. She was wearing track pants and a red tank top. Her hair was in a perm and she had a pale friendly face with light blue eyes.

"Yeah. That's me. Uh, thanks. For the update." Gah, I sound like an idiot. I smiled and walked away, to a corner to get changed. I did so, quickly. I looked up and found that everyone had stopped staring.

We all went out into the gym and Mrs. Campbell told us to partner up, grab a racket and warm up. OH SNAP. A partner?? Is she trying to humiliate me to death? I looked around, and people had already started to pair up and rally with each other. I saw a group of three girls, who all looked kind of unfriendly and snobby. I then, saw Jessica, alone.

I walked over to her. "Can I be your partner?" I asked with an unsure smile.

"Okay," She said, "I was hoping you would ask, or else I would have to break up that group of skanks over there." She looked at the group of snobs I saw before and then we walked over to a net and started rallying.

After an hour of playing doubles, we ended up as pretty close friends. I was a fairly good player and so was she. It turned out that we had Math together next. "I warn you though, our teacher sucks. He says the weirdest things! Like last week, I didn't do my homework, and he said, I quote- 'may you be infested with the fleas of a thousand camels.'" The look on my face must have been priceless because she laughed, "I know, just weird."

As we walked to our class, we talked like old friends. She asked me all about my old life. "Canada, really?" she asked. I was a pretty stereotypical Canadian, I play hockey, shovel the driveway and love Tim Horton's. She was very amused by that.

"But I don't live in an igloo." I told her. She wasn't surprised.

Math class was okay, weird, like she told me it would be. Mr. Kavcic was every bit as weird as Jessica had described, he gave me a lecture about how some people in the class would be given 2 million dollars for their brain for scientific research, and he would only get 2 dollars because some people's brains have never been used, so they would be worth more. He said that he hoped that my brain wouldn't be worth much. I think that in a twisted way, it was supposed to be a complement. How… weird.

Jessica laughed at me as we were walking towards the cafeteria. "You should have seen your face!" she exclaimed, "I guess you aren't used to him yet!"

"No kidding! I have NEVER met a man like that!" I joked. I sat with Jessica and her friends at lunch, some of them were in our math class and talked lightly about how I would love it here and that I would get used to the lack of sun.

I stood up to get an apple from a salad cart nearby when I noticed them.


	4. Author's Note

Ok, so I'm sorry times a million about the no update thing. I know that on fanfic that you're not supposed to post an author's note as an update, but screw it.

So, as you know, life happens. So does death. I'll try to update soon, but if I don't get a lot of feedback from this, I'll probably just drop this story. If you want me to keep writing, stick with me, writer's block doesn't last forever!

Again, sorry for the wait.


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